Taang Month 2014
by balai
Summary: Day 1: Rejection. "She would never be enough."


First off, thank you :Guest for letting me know it is now Taang Month! (If anyone out there knows, is April always devoted to Taang? If so, that would be incredibly helpful with being prepared.) I'm really excited for this month, but I'm sorry to say I probably won't get to every day and likely I won't be on time for all of them. I'll do what I can. Now that I've covered that, I will say flat out that there will be three days I won't be doing:

Day 3: Regret – (Done for TW 2013 day 1)

Day 11: Balance – (TW 2013 Day 2)

Day 13: Future – (Trials of Sincerity ch 6)

I know that I could technically write these again, but to be honest I have no interest in recycling prompts. It's already done, and writing multiples grates on my nerves.

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Day 1: Rejection

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He was so good. He was so innocent; so free spirited. He wasn't perfect but she thought that perhaps he was the closest her cursed life would ever come to meeting real perfection. After all, that was what she was: _cursed_. He was born destined to save the world. She was born cursed—blind—and her father had made sure each and every time she began to feel blessed in the smallest way that she remembered the bane that had been cast on her by the spirits before she had a voice to speak for herself. All her life, she had played the role of the perfect daughter—no, the perfect porcelain doll—for the sake of her parents. It was her fault they were burdened by a blind, helpless child after all, and it was the least she could do because _think of the scandal that would plague them if word was to get out. _She was the secret blight of the Beifong legacy, too wrong to be loved at home but too cultured to be loved on the run.

She was no good for him.

But Aang…he loved her however she was. He loved her as they waded their way through muddy swamps and as they twirled their way across ballrooms in the palaces of Ba Sing Se and the Fire Nation. He loved her as they trekked through the desert, parched and cranky but-never-too-cranky-for-her-company (even when she swore she couldn't stand his). He loved her in the North and the South when she strapped herself to his back rather than bearing the journey blind and buried her ice-cold toes into the sides of his coat to soak up his warmth. He loved her when she struggled to drag him across jagged rocks and unstable cliffs as they fled from their unjust imprisonment when he was too injured to walk it by himself. He loved her when she screamed at him and loved her when she was so hard on him in practice that bruises remained on his _baby skin_ for weeks after. He loved her when she was calm and loved him as gently as she did when she was violent and spoke as kindly as she did when she was harsh. He loved her when he was upset and she was the only one he would allow near him when he cried and he loved her even when she was blind with rage or let her sorrow burst—and in those rare times, he simply held her and loved her and even though she felt empty and ill inside, he thought she was beautiful.

And she loved him so much that her chest felt ready to burst.

But of course, she was Toph Beifong. Words to rally up a crowd were no problem. Words intended to strike fear in the hearts of already-rather-fearful rookies were even easier. But words of love always found her choking on her own breath. Aang liked to tell her that she was much better at it than she believed, but Toph could feel the way his heart beat quickly as he uttered the lie.

And now this was it.

His hand slipped slowly away from hers and she could hear him give a deep, shuddering inhale. For a long moment he was so silent that she almost wondered if maybe he'd forgotten how to speak (or, better yet, that he'd walked away like she knew he should—but the tell-tale pitter-patter she felt from his _twinkletoes_ told her that was not the case).

"I don't understand. What are you saying?"

Why was he doing this to her? Couldn't he see that she didn't want to be saying this at all—and especially not twice?

She stood her ground (because, now, that was all she had left). "I can't marry you."

A sharp huff ripped from him. "Yeah, I heard you the first time. What I don't understand is _why_."

There were so many reasons.

The earthbender noticed the way _she_ noticed him, immediately and deeply, like he was the only man in the room. She felt the way _her_ heart beat when he spent his time talking to Toph, laughing with Toph, _smiling _at Toph the way that _she_ talked to him and smiled at him. _She_ laughed at the things he said and _she_ was perfect at saying sweet things to him when he deserved them. Toph could feel the girl's heart beating whenever he was around, so loud and fast that she could barely pick out another in a crowded room.

And Toph understood. She would never admit it, but she used to feel that way—feel as though her heart was going to explode from her chest and shatter into pieces around her—when Aang spent his time talking with _her_, fascinated by every quiet word that fell from her quiet lips. She knew what it felt like to watch him (or in Toph's case, feel him) lose interest and slowly drift away. The girl knew exactly how _that_ felt.

But the difference was he'd never really lost interest in Toph.

And that was a shame, because it was obvious _she_ was much better for him than Toph.

"You want children, Aang." There was no mistaking it with the happy way he played with Sokka's sons and daughter or the way he gushed about Zuko's firstborn when they visited the royal family. It made her heart swell how beautiful and innocent he could be. She_ wanted_ him to be like that. After everything he'd been through, he deserved it. "I can't give you that—because I don't want children. I may never want children. That's not fair to you."

His hands were warm and they grasped the soft skin on her face. "That doesn't matter." His breath fanned across her eyelashes as he leaned in close to her, his voice a whisper. "I don't care about any of that. As long as I have—"

Toph lifted a hand to his chest. "Don't finish—just don't. That's not true." She pushed him back.

She would never be enough. If her family had taught her anything, it was that. She wasn't enough when she was just their daughter and she wasn't enough when she was an earthbending prodigy as well. She couldn't let Aang wait around for the day when her being _just his wife _was no longer enough.

Toph's teeth ground together. "You know it's not, and—Aang, that's okay. It's fine—and good—and fair. You deserve…everything. You deserve to have your own family with a home and lots of kids to help you restore the legacy of your people."

It had always been the most important thing to him. She'd be damned if he'd sacrifice that for her.

"That doesn't matter to me. I'd have you." His finger trailed across her cheek tenderly as he leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. His voice was so hopeful. "And who knows, one day you could change your mind." It was just like leaving her parents again—_one day you'll be perfect and all this silly earthbending nonsense will be forgotten—_only it was worse. Because it was Aang, and he didn't understand why it hurt her so badly. "Just because you don't want that now—"

"Stop."

He'd always accepted her just the way she was—but she knew how hard it would be for him the day he would come to realize that she wasn't going to change. He was as changing as the wind; she, as obstinate as a mountain. It was inevitable that one day he would resent her for keeping him grounded. She held out her hand, palm flat to the warm sun with the fragile copper ring he'd given her right in the middle, looking lonely and out of place off her pale finger.

"I won't let you waste your life waiting for me to change my mind."


End file.
